


Desiderium

by acoolgirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Friendship, Head Boy and Girl, Mystery, Soul Bond, trying to reassure your friends you're not crazy-that guy really is evil!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-10-11 17:44:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10470537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acoolgirl/pseuds/acoolgirl
Summary: From the moment they had brushed fingers, Isra Sharif had been able to sense Tom's soul. As their paths continued to cross at Hogwarts, her suspicions of him grew into full fledged theories of murder and world domination, now if she could only prove what she felt...Or,The story of the first person to have tried to stop Tom Riddle.





	1. First Encounter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [freklatt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/freklatt/gifts).



**Desiderium** _: An ardent desire or longing, particularly for something once had; grief or regret for the absence or loss of something or someone._

*****

“Invisible threads are the strongest ties.”

-Friedrich Nietzsche

The day was overcast and atypically cool for early September, but the gray clouds did little to dampen Isra’s spirits.

“Make sure to write every weekend! And if you ever need to…” Isra blocked out her Mum’s instructions as she repeated them for the hundredth time since they had arrived at King’s Cross.

“I know Mum,” Isra placated, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from snapping.

“Yeah, don’t you worry about nothing,” Hasan, her older brother, reassured, dropping a heavy arm around her shoulder, which Isra tried and failed to shrug off. “I’ll keep this shrimp safe, on my Gryffindor honor!”

“You two should probably board now,” Dad spoke up. Unlike Mum he wasn’t overly affectionate or anxious, and looked like he wanted this whole ordeal to be over. Isra agreed.

“I suppose so…” Mum whispered, tears gathering once more in her already red-rimmed eyes. Stepping forward, she enveloped her two children in a monstrously tight bear hug before finally stepping back and wiping her eyes with an embroidered handkerchief. “I love you, be good!”

Isra could not help but become a little emotional herself at her Mum’s goodbye, despite being overly eager to board the train and begin her journey, and felt her throat tightened.

“I will, I love you Mum,” she said hoarsely. To her Dad, she turned and raised an eyebrow. “Uh, bye Dad.”

He smiled and gave her a thumb up, “Bye!”

Rolling her eyes, she turned and followed Hasan, who was already jubilantly making his way down the corridor, greeting what seemed like every person on board.

“Oi, keep up, would you?” he shouted back at her, pausing momentarily for her to catch up. Isra huffed and hurried up a bit, catching up to him.

“Now don’t be nervous, I know you’ll be surrounded by third year Gryffindor blokes, but us Gryffindor men are renowned for our chivalry,” he boasted, as he finally came to stop outside the last compartment of the train.

“May Merlin himself protect me from other men if what you are is considered a gentleman,” Isra growled, already dreading the long journey trapped between her brother and his equally idiotic friends.

“Uh yeah, about that, can you like not talk like a freak and pretend to be normal 11 years old in front of my friends?” he asked, rounding on her with crossed arms. “The last thing I need are rumors that I’m from a family of weirdos.”

Isra just rolled her eyes once more and did not bother giving him an answer of any form. Hasan seemed to get the message because he turned around and opened the door and entered the compartment.

Isra followed him and was instantly deafened by whoops and hollers.

“Oi Sharif!” a boy who Isra recognized as Chad yelled. “You’ve grown like three inches-that’s more than your dick!”

“HEY,” Hasan shouted, momentarily silencing everyone. “My _kid_ sister will be riding with us, so let’s show her some Gryffindor decency, yeah?”

The third-year Gryffindor boys seemed to only now take in her presence, and a variety of sheepish looks crossed their faces.

“Oh, um, hi,” a dark-skinned boy got up and extended his hand towards her. “I’m Darren Thomas, nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Isra greeted back, placing her hand in his to give an appropriate shake. “I look forward starting a new school year with all of you as my peers.”

“ _Oh. My. God!_ ” Hasan whined. “What did I say about talking normally?”

“How was that abnormal?” Isra bit back, angry that he continued to insult her personality.

“Well to be fair, it sounded like you memorized it from a book or something,” another boy who Isra also recognized as Arnold Weasley spoke up.

“Ignore them, they’re just mad they can’t sound pretentious like that,” a blonde boy said to her with what was supposed to be a friendly smile. “I’m Hank Longbottom.”

Not bothering to point out that he too had pretty much insulted her, she just gave him a tight smile and wedged herself in a spot between the door and Hasan. About fifteen minutes later all the boys had given up on trying to engage her in conversation and had gone back to their rambunctious attitudes.

After having to duck her brother’s elbow from crashing into her temple for about the fourth time, Isra decided that she had reached her limit for male idiocy for the day and quickly stood up.

“I’ll be in the compartment across the corridor if you’ll need me,” she said to Hasan quickly, not bothering to wait for his reply. She sighed in relief when she stepped outside and their voices were instantly muffled.

Walking across the corridor to the last compartment, Isra did not bother knocking; it was unlikely that anyone was back there, especially considering her loud her brother and his friends were being.

She, however, was immediately proven wrong when she slid open the door.

There, seated alone was a dark-haired boy who looked around her age, features silhouetted by the gray light that leaked in from the windows to his side. His clothes looked worn and threadbare, and his posture was rigid.

Realizing that she had been staring, Isra blinked rapidly before asking in her most polite tone, “May I sit here?”

“I suppose,” he answered, turning back to look out the window, seemingly bored with her already.

Isra frowned at his dismissal, but took a seat anyways; it would do no good to have Hasan and his boisterous crew looking for her when she wasn’t where she said she would be.

She instantly disliked the boy across from her, his very presence was…unsettling.

The silence between them grew so heavy, it felt very nearly suffocating, so Isra spoke up once more, despite her uneasiness.

“I’m Isra Sharif, a first-year,” she introduced herself, waiting for his response.

He turned his neck to look at her and Isra finally caught sight of what color his eyes were: she had no idea. She supposed the closest color to describe them would have been a blue, so dark that it was nearly black. She had not known before that such an eye color existed.

“Tom Riddle,” he said quietly. “I’m a first-year as well.”

His tone and gaze was too direct to chalk him off as shy, Isra noted. No, there was something peculiar about Tom.

“Riddle,” she repeated. “I don’t seem to recognize it, are you a muggle-born?”

His neutral expression shifted as he frowned, “Muggle-born?”

“Oh,” Isra breathed. “It’s um…terminology used in the wizarding community in reference to people who don’t have magic. Sometimes these non-magical people, Muggles, have children who _can_ do magic, who are referred to as Muggle-born.”

“And you, are you a Muggle-born?” he asked, his gaze sweeping over her as he took in her every detail.

“No, I’m a Pureblood,” she told him without any pride or arrogance. Her family did not support the pureblood supremacy in any form. “I’m actually from the ‘Sacred 28’, but I don’t think that’s anything important.”

“But some people do?” he edged on, his eyes taking on a tune of intensity she had never seen in someone her age.

“I suppose…it’s mostly the Slytherin house that believes the Pureblood supremacy rubbish,” she answered, growing uncomfortable under the weight of his gaze.

“Ah, since you don’t know any of this, you’re a Muggle-born then,” she concluded as she pieced together all the parts of their conversation. “Don’t worry, I won’t judge you for that.”

“I was born into an orphanage and have been raised there my entire life,” he said in a voice that made her stomach drop in pity. “I don’t know my lineage.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she finally managed to say. Throughout her childhood, she had read countless books chronicling the lives of orphans, but she had never met an actual orphan until now. “But it’s all right, lineage does not define you, it is your actions and accomplishments that does.”

He raised an eyebrow at that. “I suppose,” he said, an echo of the first sentence he had uttered to her.

There were a few moments of amicable silence, when the door slid open and the trolley woman greeted them.

Realizing that he must not have much pocket money, and probably didn’t even know what most of the items in the cart were, she gave him a sincere smile and said, “Let me treat you to some candy, a payment for keeping me company.”

“That isn’t necessary,” he told her, but Isra ignored him and proceeded to buy a rather large stash of candies. She was renowned by her family for her sweet tooth anyways.

“It’s no fun eating alone,” she told him, holding out a chocolate frog for him to take. He stared at her proffered hand for a few moments, and just when Isra was about to retract her hand in embarrassment, he reached forward to take the frog, his fingertips just barely brushing against hers.

The slight contact, however, was enough to make her gasp, and suddenly it was as if her sense of self was violated by his, waves of his what could only be cosmic energy crashing into her; it was as if his very aura was seeping into her, filling into her skin and stretching it with dread. The room in her vision stretched and darkened, its very axis tilting as her entire paradigm of autonomy was shifted to include Tom-the sudden invasion so harrowing, she very nearly threw up.

“Are you alright?” he inquired, looking more inconvenienced than concerned.

Isra forced herself to nod, but all she could really process was that she could _feel_ who he was and what she felt was…scary.

“Just…some motion sickness,” she forced herself to say, wanting to both jump out of the compartment to get away from him and the suffocation associated, and to stay, to find out just what on Earth was happening to her.

He shrugged and took a bite of the chocolate frog, reading the trading card intently.

“Albus Dumbeldore,” he said without preamble, flipping the card to show her Dumbledore’s picture on it. “I met him, once.”

“Oh?” Isra asked breathlessly, forcing herself to not sway away from the waves of dark energy coming from Tom by clenching her fists tightly. “He’s the head of my brother’s house, supposed to be a really nice guy.”

“Hm,” was all Tom’s reply. “And which house do you wish to be sorted into?”

Isra blinked at his sudden curiosity concerning her. “Well, I’d like to be sorted into Ravenclaw, I think I would be most challenged academically there.”

Her body’s reaction to his presence was no longer so violent, and settled more as a discomforting itch deep within her bones. Perhaps she really was just becoming ill?

“And you?” Isra asked him. “Do you know which house you’d like to be in?”

“Whichever house makes me the greatest Wizard to have existed,” he said solemnly.

Despite her uneasiness, Isra could not help but giggle softly at that, “You sound like a model Slytherin.”

“The house of prejudice?” he asked without any teasing in his voice.

“The house of ambition,” she replied honestly. “I wouldn’t mind being a Slytherin, but at the moment I’m more interested in learning as much as I can, without worrying too much about its applications.”

“What’s the point of learning something if not to apply it?” he asked her, the candy stash lay completely forgotten beside her.

“Well you certainly need to learn the applications,” she argued. “But to study something only in hopes of exclusively using it later limits your mindset.”

“A set mind is a focused one.”

“A closed mind is a small one.”

Tom crossed his arms and shook his head, taking in everything that had just been spoken. “I believe there is some merit to your word, to become a great Wizard, I must have an extremely extensive knowledge on every subject.”

Isra smiled, but could not help but feel as if she had made a mistake speaking this all to Tom. She brushed it off to the fact that she simply did not want to be housemates with him.

The door suddenly slammed open, and in popped Hasan.

“Oi, it’s time to robe up!” he bellowed. “Ohhh, who is this, your boyfriend?”

Isra instantly colored at his incredulous accusation--could he not feel the darkness oozing out of him?!

“Hasan!” she hissed in both fury and embarrassment. “Can you please behave yourself?”

Hasan, completely ignoring her, stalked over to Tom and stood in front of him, chest puffed out and hands on his hips, “Listen, I don’t care that you look like Count Dracula Jr., you try anything fancy with my sister and I’ll hex you so hard your Mama will feel it.”

Isra gasped at his insolence, but before she could move to do anything, Hasan raised a hand and struck himself across the face, _hard_.

“What the-?” Hasan spluttered, his cheek turning an angry red.

“Now now, what you said was rude, but there’s no need to be violent about it,” Tom said in a diplomatic voice.

Rushing over to take Hasan by the arm, she pulled him out of the compartment before he did something else stupid.

“It was nice meeting you, Tom,” Isra lied in a rush as she ushered a dazed Hasan out.

She heard no reply as she slid the door shut and turned to face her brother, who’s eyes finally seemed to be refocusing.

“Isra, I swear…I wasn’t going to hit him _or_ me, but I,” he trailed off, tentatively touching his cheek with his fingertips.

Isra only pursed her lips and looked away. Now that she was away from him, the itch in her bones and subsided, but a new feeling had replaced it: anxiety.

“I know Hasan,” she said soothingly, rubbing his arm comfortingly. “He can…have an effect on a person like that.”

She did not try to free herself from his grasp when he took her underneath his arm and led her back to his compartment.

“Stay away from him, OK?”

Isra nodded.

She did not have to be told twice.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Sorted

_Chapter 2_

“Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.”

-Anais Nin

Isra was able to temporarily forget that... _peculiar_ first meeting with the excitement only a first year Hogwart’s student can feel, as they stand in the great hall before everyone, waiting to be told what will be their new home for the next seven years.

The man who introduced himself to them as Professor Slughorn, her new potions teacher, read off their names from a piece of parchment in alphabetical order. There weren’t many first years this term, so it hadn’t been very long until he had reached the R’s of the alphabet.

“Tom Riddle!” Slughorn called out, looking up from the list expectantly. Isra tried to be subtle as she turned her neck to watch him make his way up to the hat.

He didn’t walk like an orphan, Isra observed. No, he walked as if he the ground was not worthy of his step.

She glanced away from Tom to see that Hasan was glaring at her from his spot at the Gryffindor table.

‘ _Oh, bother.’_ Isra thought to herself, annoyed. She hoped this trend didn’t continue.

Another man, who Isra recognized as Dumbledore, placed the hat on Tom’s wavy hair.  In all the earlier sortings, the hat had been jubilant, and had mused aloud jovially for the whole school to hear while it made its decision, but for whatever reason, it was silent as it sat atop Tom’s head.  Dumbledore, who had also been smiling all evening, also looked suddenly somber.

Despite the oddity of it, Tom’s sorting lasted under a minute, no doubt the quickest sorting of the evening thus far.

“Slytherin,” the hat announced, much quieter than his previous declarations. The Slytherin table, always the visage of prestige, clapped daintily as Tom made his way over.

“Isra Sharif!” Slughorn called, snapping her back to attention of the actual sorting. It seemed that she was right behind Tom in the rooster.

Her legs felt like her favorite dessert, jello, as she made her way up to the stool. She tried to hide her tremors, but she didn’t know if she was successful. She looked over again at her brother, and this time was met with an encouraging smile. That made her feel a teensy bit better.

It took her a moment to climb onto the stool, since it was rather tall, and she, rather short.

“All settled?” Dumbledore asked her quietly. Isra looked up and saw his blue eyes were sparkling, and decided right there and then that she liked him. She gave a small nod, and he placed the hat on her head.

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it wasn’t what the hat did next.

“Why, what a brilliant witch!” the hat bellowed for the whole school to hear. Isra was both pleased and mortified at the announcement.

 _“But your mind is not the only thing that sets you apart, is it?”_ the hat asked her, this time though, Isra realized, in her mind alone.

Having never been in a telepathic conversation before, her answer was awkward as she adjusted to the strange sensation.

 _“I, no, I mean, um, yes-”_ she tried to answer, unsure what to say.

“But courage, her heart knows courage well!” the hat yelled once more.  “Does the house of Gryffindor expect a new arrival?”

Her mind was instantly bombarded with images of having to put up with Hasan and his annoying friends for four more years, constantly surrounded by them.

 _“No!”_ she mentally pleaded. _“Not Gryffindor_!”

“ _No,”_ the hat agreed. “ _Wisdom exceeds glory for you.”_

“Yet she is filled with defiant ambition, will Slytherin be the path towards your dreams?” the hat asked aloud. Isra had no answer, and could only wait in tense silence to see if she was going to spend the next seven years with Tom.

“ _Seek out the knowledge that calls to you, but do not fall prey to it,_ ” the hat whispered to her.

Before she could ask what the hat meant by that, she was silenced by a loud:

“RAVENCLAW!”

She was met with a loud applause as the hat was taken off of her, and she blinked rapidly as her eyes adjusted to the light. Making her way to the Ravenclaw table, Isra could not help but grin widely. She had been sorted into the house she wanted!

                                                                                                            

* * *

 

 

Dinner had been delicious, albeit awkward. After the initial welcoming’s, the older students had more or less ignored the new first years, and socialized amongst themselves, their inside jokes and recounts of past years flying over her head.

“This here is Ravenclaw tower,” the seventh year perfect that was in charge of escorting the first years announced. He was a dreadfully skinny boy with a rather nasally voice, and Isra was glad that Hogwarts was so beautiful, it made blocking out his voice a lot easier while she took in the austere architecture.

The small group began its ascent up a rather windy set of curling stairs, and by the time they reached the top, Isra was embarrassed to admit that she was rather out of breath.

“You would think Rowena Ravenclaw, in all her infinite wisdom, would have made a set of stairs that weren’t so bloody steep!” a girl with short red hair whispered to her. Isra was going to tell the girl that the stairs actually weren’t too steep, they just covered a long distance, but she was momentarily surprised as she took in the girl's features. Though her hair was red like strawberries, her eyes were half-mooned shaped, a feature found on wizards who generally came from the far east.

Isra wasn’t able to make an inquiry on the girl’s heritage, because a boy up front had answered the riddle required for entry, and they were ushered into the common room.

How could she describe it? It was as if the room had come from the depths of her very heart, it was that perfect. She began naming the constellations that decorated the dome ceiling, before shifting horizons and taking in the numerous sculptures and artifacts that were artfully placed across the room. And all the books! While Mum had a rather extensive library back home, it didn’t compare with the numerous volumes that lined the walls, which were broken up by large windows that presented them breathtaking views of the grounds below them and the mountains surrounding them.

“Who needs to go to class when all the knowledge in the world is probably in this room?” a girl asked sarcastically behind her. Isra turned around and frowned at her, but quickly stopped when she realized that the girl looked just as awestruck as the rest of the first years. The girl met Isra’s gaze and winked. Isra couldn’t help but nod and smile back.

“All right, all right,” their escorting perfect said impatiently. “Plenty of time to gawk later. To the right is the staircase to the girl’s dormitory, and to the left, the boy’s. You’ll find your luggage already in its designated spot. Good night.”

‘ _Well, this is it_ ,’ Isra thought to herself nervously. ‘ _Time to formally meet the girls who are going to be my family away from home for the next seven years…’_

No one talked as they entered the room marked _first-year._ True to the perfect’s word, their luggage sat in front of a made bed. The room wasn’t as opulent as the common room, instead having a cozier feel to it with the large fireplace that sat at the north-most wall. The beds were large with navy colored bedding, though the sheer curtains that fell over them were a light bronze. Next to each bed was a small vanity that came with its own little stool. The room was clearly designed for female habitation. Isra couldn’t even take offense to the stereotype because it looked so beautiful, and truthfully, useful.

 “Soo _oo_ ,” the girl with short red hair said, once they had all taken seat on their respective beds. “Who wants to introduce themselves first?”

 “I’ll go,” the girl who had made the sarcastic comment earlier lazily volunteered. She had a very open face, which was accentuated with all her hair pulled back and plaited into a tight braid. “My name is Mary Maryweather, because my parents hate me. Let’s see…I was born in December, I don’t have a favorite color, and frankly, I have no idea why I was sorted into Ravenclaw. I was hoping it’d be Hufflepuff. Our friends in yellow are known for playing harder than they work, know what I mean?”

 The entire time Mary had been speaking, her left eyebrow was raised while the right lay resting in its usual spot. Isra got the feeling that this was Mary’s default expression.

 “Well, it’s no wonder you weren’t sorted in Slytherin, you haven’t any ambition at all,” a girl with platinum blonde hair said haughtily, rolling her eyes. It was interesting for Isra to look at this girl, it seemed her every feature was the opposite of Isra’s. While Isra’s skin was colored like a sandy beach, the girl’s was a snowy hill. Her nose was long and pointed, Isra’s, short and rounded. Their lips: hers thin, Isra’s full; their height, tall and short; the only similarity they had was the pin drop straight hair that hung from their heads.

 “You got that right,” Mary replied easily, smirking at the indignant red that took on the girl’s cheeks.

 “Well _I’m_ Kaightlyn Kronk, that’s k-a-i-g-h-t-l-y-n, and I’m going to be a healer,” Kaightlyn said loudly, looking at everyone except Mary. “I’m a muggleborn, so you all may have an advantage over me now, but rest assured I fully plan on not only catching up, but excelling!”

 “I’d be happy to answer any questions you have regarding the wizarding world,” Isra offered quickly. Truthfully, something about _Kaightlyn_ rubbed her wrong, but she was dying of curiosity to know more about the functions of the muggle world. Realizing that the attention was now on her, Isra began to fidget her feet- her nervous habit.

 “Right, I’m Isra Sharif,” she said politely, giving each girl in the room a smile. “I’m thrilled to be sorted into Ravenclaw, to be honest. Since early childhood I have had trouble detaching myself from a book, and to be placed in the house that values knowledge above all in one of the greatest wizarding schools in the world? I’m beyond excited to learn what we will be taught.”

 Realizing she had gone off on a tangent, another nervous habit of hers, she quickly concluded by saying, “But before that I hope to learn more about each of you and hopefully become friends!”

 Isra cringed. ‘ _Hope we become friends? What are you, five?’_

“Oh yes!” a girl with an airy voice exclaimed. “I do hope we all become best of friends! My name is Esmeralda Diaz, and like sweet Isra here, I also love to learn, so I’m also glad to have been sorted here. Let’s all do our best this year!”

 Not only was Esmeralda undeniably gorgeous with her bronze skin and misty green eyes, hair that fell in thick wavy locks that Isra could not help but be envious of, and a voice that sounded like she was an enchantress, but she was one of the nicest people Isra had ever met.

 Isra caught Mary rolling her eyes at Esmerelda’s declaration. Odd. Isra had found It sweet.

 “Well that leaves it between us two,” the red-haired girl said with a small laugh to the last occupant of the room: a girl with two pigtails and huge glasses. “Do you wanna go first?”

 The pigtailed girl shook her head quickly, and looked at her knees, not saying anything.

 “Ok then…I’m Susan Kang, but everyone calls me Suzy!” Suzy introduced herself excitedly. Raising her hands as if she were calming a jeering crowd, she continued. “I will of course, answer the pressing question I’m sure everyone is thinking right now: I’m half Korean, half British, which is why I look the way I do.”

 ‘ _Ah, I was half right!’_

“You look beautiful!” Esmerelda assured kindly. Suzy gave a half smile at that, and Isra empathized. It was hard to accept a compliment like that from a girl that looked like Esmerelda.

 “Thanks!” Suzy said weakly. “Anyways, I wanna be an inventor when I grow up, so if you wake up to a loud bang, that’s just the creative process rolling!”

Everyone except Kaightlyn and the pigtailed girl laugh. The former was staring with a bored expression at her nails, while the later just stared at her knees, not looking up.

 The first year Ravenclaw girls waited for the final girl to speak, but as the clock on the east wall continued to click, to girl continued to stare at her knees.

 “It’s your turn to speak now, if you’d like,” Esmerelda said encouragingly, which finally tore the girl’s gaze away from her knees. Her glasses magnified the size of her eyes, giving her the look of an owlish creature.

 “I’m Myrtle,” the girl mumbled quietly. There was another awkward silence as everyone waited for her to continue speaking.

 The girl was painfully shy, that much was clear. When she was younger, Isra too had struggled with shyness in front of strangers, so understood the girl’s trepidation all too well.

 “Myrtle, I’m sure you’re tired,” Isra spoke up, breaking the awkward wait. “You can let us know more about you tomorrow at breakfast, if you’d like?”

 The girl nodded quickly and gave her a grateful smile, which Isra easily returned.

 “Oh, thank Merlin,” Mary groaned, flopping backwards onto her bed. “I’m completely beat.”

They all slowly shuffled into their nightly routine, getting used to the new layout of the room. Isra would especially have to get used to having the washroom outside of her bedchambers. About twenty minutes later, they were all settled, and Isra could finally hear the whispering of the wind outside the tall tower through the window behind her bed.

 ‘ _I can’t believe I’m finally here,’_ Isra thought to herself as she began to be lulled to sleep by the soothing sound of the wind outside. ‘ _I’ve officially begun my journey to becoming a powerful witch…’_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for updating after a long time. I'll admit I lost the motivation for this story, but it's definitely back in full swing! Also, no tisra interaction this chapter because if I hadn't broken it up here it would have been a bit too long. Hope you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning: While there WILL be romance, this fic WILL be angst heavy, though there will be plenty of light-hearted and even funny moments. Consider yourselves warned. Enjoy!


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